Stirring whirring thirteen burning
spinning winged, winking - blinking,
Eyes on four Ophanim, wheels
carrying the throne of God.
Faithfully, their silent protest
Trailing shadows in the heavens
Justice-bearing burdens bearing
Down on every crumpling eye
The Almighty, looking outward
From an ivory-colored tower
Unto chaos and His creation
Sinking deeper into his throne
Every seeded soul now bearing
Fruits on tangled arms grown
Heavy, holding like the branches
of the Kraken clinging, choking,
"Its massive roots are crushing him"
The Ophanim cry, "He's crushing us"
And they buckle. And the throne tilts.
And he falls face flat on the clouds.
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